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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010068">Law &amp; Ardor</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613'>sarahcakes613</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Law &amp; Order: SVU</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, Future Fic, Meddling Kids, POV Outsider, Pre-Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 21:06:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,067</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30010068</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sarahcakes613/pseuds/sarahcakes613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Noah thinks his lawyer and his mom should date.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Olivia Benson/Trevor Langan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Law &amp; Ardor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This was originally going to be a scene between Noah and Olivia, but I had fun writing Noah and Trevor hanging out. Noah is around 15 here.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Come on,” a voice sighs from next to him.</p><p>Noah stands up sullenly, following his lawyer out of the interview room. It had just been his bad luck that the dumpster Jimmy had dared him to tag had weird motion sensors on it, and next thing he knows he’s sitting in the back of a patrol car while some beat cop rifles through his backpack.</p><p>At least the cop had been chill enough to let him call his lawyer, Noah knows that most would have gone straight to his mom and then he’d be grounded until graduation.</p><p>Trevor signs his release form and hands him his backpack – now sans the two canisters of spray paint – and leads him outside.</p><p>“Get in,” he gestures to his car, a sleek silver Mercedes. Noah shoves his bag in the footwell and slumps into the front passenger seat, face turned to stare out the window.</p><p>Trevor doesn’t start the car right away and when Noah looks over, he stares pointedly at the empty seatbelt buckle. Noah sneers and locks his seatbelt into place, and the car starts moving.</p><p>“Where are we going?” Noah asks, curiosity overpowering his teenage desire to sulk in silence. They’re driving north, away from the neighbourhood Noah and his mother live in.</p><p>“I want a milkshake,” Trevor says. “You want a milkshake?” Noah stares at him, and he looks sideways at the boy. “What? Bailing out delinquents is thirsty work.”</p><p>“I’m not a delinquent,” Noah huffs.</p><p>Trevor laughs. “Kid, you were quite literally caught red-handed vandalizing city property. What, did you lose a bet?”</p><p>“Jimmy Neville dared me,” Noah admits. “In front of Rosie Hernandez.”</p><p>Trevor nods like he knows who either of those people are. Maybe he does, Noah thinks, maybe his mom has files on all of his classmates that she shares with his lawyer. He slumps further down in his seat as the weight of what he’s done starts to sink in.</p><p>“Do I have a record now?” He asks, fiddling with his sweater cuffs.</p><p>“No,” Trevor answers. “It was your first time and you basically got the legal equivalent of a slap on the wrist. I hope you understand though, if it had been something more serious than spray paint…” His voice trails off, but Noah gets it. He’s heard his mom’s rants about cops using their clout to help their own kids escape justice and he knows if he’d been picked up for something more severe like driving drunk, he’d probably still be sitting in that interview room with cuffs on.</p><p>The car pulls into a drive-through and the speaker crackles as a bored-sounding employee asks for their order.</p><p>“Yeah, can I get a strawberry milkshake and a – hang on,” Trevor asks. He looks back at Noah. “What flavour do you want? You still like those orange creamsicle ones?”</p><p>Noah nods, and Trevor adds it to his order. For a guy he only sees a handful of times a year, mostly at his mom’s work events, it’s weird that his lawyer knows so much about him.</p><p>“How did you remember that?” He asks, and Trevor grins.</p><p>“When you were losing your baby teeth, you decided that orange creamsicles were the only thing that made your mouth stop hurting. I remember Liv – uh, your mom – complaining about how sick of them she was getting.”</p><p>Noah doesn’t remember that. The tip of Trevor’s ear is pink and his eyes are bright as he reminisces, and Noah considers his lawyer. He’s a good guy, (for a defence lawyer, his uncle’s voice supplies in his mind) and Noah knows he’d been really helpful when his mom first started fostering him.</p><p>He waits until they have their milkshakes and the car is parked before he says anything.</p><p>“You like my mom, right?”</p><p>Trevor sputters around his straw. “I beg your pardon?”</p><p>“You do,” Noah confirms, “I can tell.”</p><p>Trevor looks vaguely alarmed at being caught having emotions. “What uh, what makes you ask?”</p><p>“I dunno,” Noah shrugs. “She hasn’t had a boyfriend in ages and I think she’s lonely. You should ask her out.”</p><p>Trevor winces. “Have you asked your mom her opinion of this?”</p><p>“No,” Noah admits. “But she always mentions you when people rant about defence lawyers being bad. I think she likes you, even though you sometimes represent assholes.”</p><p>“Don’t swear,” Trevor says absently.</p><p>Noah rolls his eyes but returns his attention to his milkshake. He can tell Trevor’s thinking about it, his ears growing redder.</p><p>They finish their milkshakes in silence and Trevor drives Noah home. When they get there, Olivia is standing outside the building looking disappointed, and Noah groans.</p><p>“Did you seriously snitch on me?” He looks at Trevor, who lifts his arms in a shrug.</p><p>“I’m more afraid of you than her, kid. Besides, you think she wasn’t going to go into work and find out that someone from the next precinct over had her kid in their car? Better she hear it from the horse’s mouth.”</p><p>“Neigh,” Noah mutters as he pushes himself out of the car.</p><p>“Noah, what did you do?!” His mother wraps him up in her arms and squeezes. “I was so worried about you.”</p><p>“I’m fine, mom, seriously.” Noah hugs her back. “Just did something dumb, but Trevor helped me out.”</p><p>“Thank you, Trevor.” Olivia smiles at him.</p><p>“Hey, I just wish all my cases were as easy as this,” he smiles back bashfully. “You know you can call me, anytime.”</p><p>“I’m hungry,” Noah says abruptly. “We should have dinner. Mom, why don’t we ask Trevor to stay for dinner, as a thank you?”</p><p>“Oh!” Olivia looks confused. “Sure, that’s a good idea sweetheart. Trevor, would you like to join us? It’s nothing fancy, just some grilled vegetables and carbonara.”</p><p>“Oh, I shouldn’t, really,” Trevor shifts awkwardly. Noah shoots him a knowing look, and he blushes. “But uh, if it’s really no problem, yeah, that would be lovely.”</p><p>Noah slides into the corner of the elevator as they ride up to their floor, and watches his mother’s body language. She’s chatting amiably with Trevor, and she’s got a big smile on her face. He knows she’s not the type to put herself out there, so if tonight goes well it’s going to fall on him to give them both the little push they need.</p><p>He hopes Jimmy Neville can get him some more spray paint.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am pretty sure I caught all misspellings, but if a "mum" got by me, I can't help it, I'm not American. We don't saw mawm.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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